


a good person

by psidn



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:17:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psidn/pseuds/psidn
Summary: Fuji is a lord, Takashi is his attendant. They are on the run.





	a good person

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueMinuet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/gifts).



> for the prompt [Fuji is a noble and Taka is his favorite attendant (and maybe bodyguard... but only when he's holding a tennis racket? Sword??). TLDR: AU where Fuji is the feudal lord and Taka is the handmaiden. ](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/21522.html?thread=9906194#cmt9906194)
> 
> some minor edits made, for wording and tenses. content warning for violence, all of it vague and mostly off-screen

They come to rest in a meadow. There must dozens of different grasses and flowers, smart little spots of yellows and blues against the thick green. Takashi follows after Fuji, the leaves and stalks getting crushed under their feet, letting a sweetness rise up into the air.

"This is a good spot," Fuji says. He turns to smile at Takashi. Fuji is always smiling. Fuji is so kind.

"Yes," Takashi replies.

\--

When Takashi was twelve he was told it was time to take on his new role as Fuji's attendant. He had been nervous and shy on their introduction, but Fuji had been kind enough to pretend to not notice his stammering. Instead he had taken a look at Takashi and said, "With your build you likely have a lot of power."

"I suppose," Takashi had said. He did help a lot with the lifting around the grounds. He was used to people calling him, "a strong young man."

"Do you want to spar with me?"

Under the bright afternoon sun, Takashi had taken up a sword for the first time, had learnt what it felt like to channel that power into an extension of himself. He had felt brand new.

\--

"We'll sleep here tonight," Fuji says.

"Are you worried?" Takashi asks. "Did I--"

"I'm not worried, Taka-san," Fuji interrupts. Fuji does not usually interrupt anyone. Takashi holds his breath, staring.

Fuji lets out a soft laugh. "Maybe I'm a little worried," he concedes. "But no matter what, you mustn't blame yourself. Alright?"

"Alright," Takashi says. "But it's my duty to protect you."

"That duty goes both ways," Fuji says, as if it were really that simple, as if others believed that too. "Now, how about we eat? You packed some rations, yes?"

Takashi had rushed down to the kitchens and packed cured meats and fish and dried fruits, yes. He'd also packed a bag of dry rice, though now he feels like he shouldn't have been so hopeful. They'll be avoiding making a fire for a good few weeks, probably.

They eat as the sun sets, and it's too idyllic. They're people on the run, not people enjoying a rest after a good day's work in the countryside. But Fuji doesn't seem to mind; in fact, he's the one who points out the colours in the sky. Fuji is cultured like that, to enjoy nature and its beauty.

Fuji is so calm.

\--

By the time Takashi had a good four years of sword training under his belt, he realized he'd never be able to reach Fuji's skill. Fuji was unparalleled, high above him. Takashi didn't mind, but it made him wonder sometimes.

"Why bother practicing with me?" Takashi had asked as he cleaned his equipment for the day. Cleaning Fuji's equipment was part of his duties too, but it was something that Fuji preferred to do himself.

"Why shouldn't I?" Fuji had asked back.

"You're much better than me," Takashi had pointed out. "Far quicker, more skilled, and you have more stamina. What do you even gain?"

"Not everything is about gaining something, Taka-san. And besides, you have far more power. It's good to train against a variety of opponents."

That was true, Takashi had thought. But it wasn't a very satisfying answer.

"How about you? Why practice against me if you know you’re going to lose?" Fuji had asked him, smiling. "You’re quite good yourself, don't you want to win more than once in a while?"

Of course Takashi wanted to win; it was all he could think of when he held a sword. But losing felt good when it was against Fuji. Sometimes he thought of Fuji holding him down after a defeat, though he didn't know why. Fuji was always a gentlemen who helped him up.

It felt embarrassing to say any of that. "I'd rather improve against a strong opponent," he had said, instead.

"There," Fuji had said. "Isn't that nice?"

\--

They use the canvas Takashi had scrounged as a cover. Takashi is a little embarrassed to be sharing the same cover with Fuji. In all their years together, nearly a decade now, Takashi had always made sure to not wonder about such things concerning Fuji. But it is hard to keep his mind otherwise occupied when sharing the same bed.

The weather had been mild as they'd set out early in the morning, but now under the night sky it is closer to frigid. They lie under the cover, shivering. Takashi wonders what Fuji's thinking about. They're both so quiet.

"Taka-san," Fuji says.

"Yes?"

"May I kiss you?"

Takashi blinks into the darkness. So maybe Fuji’s thinking along the same lines as he is.

"You don't have to say yes," Fuji says. "I think it's safe to say we are no longer bound to the same roles we were before."

Takashi tries to slide under the covers, but his feet get tangled up with, of all horrors, Fuji's feet.

"Taka-san, are you alright?"

"Yes," Takashi says, voice strangled. "That is, yes, to both questions."

Takashi can hear Fuji's breathing in the darkness.

"Ah," Fuji finally says. "That is a relief. It would have been--well, it doesn't matter."

Under the covers, Fuji presses down on Takashi and kisses him. Fuji is so good.

\--

It had happened so fast. A visiting dignitary, a throwaway comment, a threat, swords drawn. Takashi had a sword in his hand before he knew better, had already felt the burn coursing through his body. It was true, what Fuji always said: he was strong, he was powerful, it was something to his advantage.

He fought as long as he could until the sword was twisted out his grip. He was left alone and bleeding, and that was how Fuji had found him, on the ground.

"Taka-san," Fuji had said, as he helped Takashi sit up. "Who did this to you?"

Fuji had taken him to his own room and had gotten a maid to take care of the wounds.

"May I borrow your sword, Taka-san?" Fuji had asked.

Takashi did not remember much after that. He'd woken up to a very early morning and Fuji standing over him, smiling and calm.

"We should leave, now," Fuji had said. "Can you stand? Walk? I need you to run some errands, just a few. Then meet me at the back exit by the stream."

Fuji was such a good person.


End file.
